


Spaced Out

by Summerjmarshall



Series: 5 seconds of summer AU [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerjmarshall/pseuds/Summerjmarshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always looked so vacant, like he didn't know what was going on outside of his head. No one seemed to know why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Head resting on his hand lazily, eyes glassy and vacant, jaw hanging slightly open, breathing shallowly. It was almost like he was sleeping with his eyes open. No one could get his attention. He would sit down at the table with his drink and just daydream. By the time he decided to snap out of it his coffee was cold. Every time. Sometimes I'd attempt to smile at him but he never looked, just ordered his drink and walked straight to his seat, regaining his usual position and daydreaming. 

I didn't think he was happy. But then again he never looked sad. He didn't look anything. Just vacant. His eyes glossed over like he wasn't really seeing what was in front but a whole other reality. Once he knocked his coffee on his lap and didn't react for almost a minute, suddenly swearing and knocking the cup off of his soaked jeans. It was the only time I ever saw him convey an emotion. 

After 6 months and 3 weeks of watching him I decided to try and start a conversation. 

He walked into the cafe at the usual time, making his way to the counter with his long and unbalanced stride, his fairly tatty shoes squeaking on the harsh polished floor. He spoke quietly to the waitress and I realised I'd never really heard his voice. Excluding the time he shouted about the spilt drink. I waited for him to get his drink and walk to his table before getting up, hesitantly sitting at the seat opposite him. He'd already gained his trance like state, his lips pressed into a firm line and his eyes squinting slightly as he stared at the table. 

"A-are you okay?" I asked carefully, biting my lip and watching him. Ten minutes of no response left me frustrated, back at my table. 

The same thing happened for about a week before I got a response. 

"Me?" He mumbled and blinked rapidly, eyes boring into me. I nodded and swallowed, smiling uncertainly. 

"You just looked like you were in your own little world or something.." I laughed awkwardly, getting used to not getting an answer out of the stranger. 

"I try." He shrugged and stood up, smiling slightly before leaving the cafe with his unbalanced walk and squeaky shoes.


	2. "Caffè Americano."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He comes in for the first time after he first spoke to her. Blah blah blah she thinks he's hot but won't actually admit it to herself.

"You two talk a lot."   
"We've spoken once." I shrugged and walked past Sam to take an order.  
"More than once. I see you sat there all the time." He said quietly as he followed me to a table. It was almost 4 and 'Mr. Daydream', as Sam called him, hadn't yet arrived.   
"He never says anything though." I rolled my eyes and put the drinks on the table before walking away. Sam walked off to serve another table and I returned to the till.   
It wasn't until 27 minutes past that he walked in, soaking wet, his bright hair plastered to his skin and his black T-shirt soaked. I tucked my hair behind my ear and leant against the counter, watching him walk up and pull his wallet out, hesitating when he noticed that I was stood in the place of the normal waitress. "She's ill today. Flu." I said, just loud enough to be heard over the quiet hum of a crappy radio station. He nodded and fumbled in his wallet for some coins, his slender fingers trembling as he pulled the money out of the distressed leather. "Caffè Americano." He mumbled and put the money on the counter, shivering in his squeaky, tatty trainers.   
"You should sit by the heater." I commented quietly and took the money, starting to make his coffee.  
He walked to his usual seat without another word, sitting down and letting a vacant expression take over his features. His voice was higher than I thought it'd be, and his lips were bright pink, presumably from the cold, considering how pink his cheeks were too. Once his drink was finished I took it over to his table, placing the cup in front of him. "Thank you." He mumbled and rested his head on his hand, staring at the drink. I found myself watching him, completely intrigued by the dripping wet, half vacant boy in front of me.  
I didn't realise I'd been watching him, stood less than a metre from where he sat, until Sam walked past, bumping into me deliberately. I glared at him before glancing back at the boy and walking back to the counter. He didn't even really do anything. He just sat there. He'd space out and just go into his own little world and recently, there was nothing I'd rather do than sit and watch him. He seemed so relaxed. Like he wasn't even thinking about anything. It was like he could switch his brain off and just sit there. It was amazing. And I started to realise that actually, maybe I was jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided whether to upload some of my other books. If you want me to just leave a comment or something? :)


	3. It was 3:23.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously he's there again. But things aren't normal. change. Ew.

"She's still ill?" He asked quietly, averting his eyes as soon as I looked up at him.   
I was serving tables, balancing the large tray on my forearm and trying to avoid the various handbags scattered around the tables. Trip hazards were less than welcome when carrying 5 coffees and a flapjack. 

"Yeah. I'm not sure when she'll be back." I shrugged and placed the cups on the table of elderly women, nattering about the bus times and only pausing to thank me.

It was only when I turned around that I noticed he was watching me. He'd retreated to the other side of the shop, standing close to the heater, despite the relatively pleasant weather. 

I quickly made my way back to the till, blaming my 'active job' for the slight flush of colour in my cheeks. 

He still wasn't sitting down. He hadn't ordered a drink either. It wasn't until then that I noticed he was early.   
Everyday, except Sunday's, he would arrive between four and ten past. He would order his coffee and sit down. He'd leave at five to five. 

It was 3:23. 

"Is everything okay?" I asked, walking over hesitantly, playing with the notebook in the pocket of my apron.   
He didn't speak, but reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a slightly crumpled envelope.   
"When she's back.. Can you give her this?" He asked quietly and held out the small, red envelope.   
I looked up at him and nodded, taking it from his grip.   
"Thank you." He said and nodded slightly. I put the envelope into my pocket and wiped my hands on my apron.   
"Would you like a drink?" I asked and cleared my throat, taking out the notebook and pencil.   
He simply nodded and strolled, rather lopsided, to his usual seat.   
I sighed and quickly walked behind the counter to make his drink.   
"Caffè Americano.." I mumbled to myself and rolled my eyes.

There was something about him that pissed me off. 

He came in here everyday, bluntly ordered his drink, and didn't even drink it. In fact, he didn't even order his drink this time. He just expected me to know what he wanted. 

Trust me to live up to his expectations. 

Despite the frustrating things about him, he was the most interesting person to ever walk through the doors of the shop. For some reason, he made me want to go to work. I wanted to watch him, attempt to make conversation. I wanted him to ignore me, or reply with a half hearted response.


End file.
